


6:59 am

by Glittering_Mess



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18415136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glittering_Mess/pseuds/Glittering_Mess
Summary: I've been toldthat people in the armydo more by 7:00 amthan I doin an entire daybut if I wakeat 6:59 amand turn to youto trace the outline of your lipswith mineI will have done enoughand killed no onein the process.





	6:59 am

**Author's Note:**

> Poem in the summary is by Shane Koyczan!
> 
> Why are there no Startomco fics  
> I have a need.

If mornings were bliss before, then they were nothing short of heaven now; heaven that was spent in warm blankets and soft kisses and tangled limbs. 

Tom was the first to wake up, always the first, even before the birds took on their war-cries and the sunbeams traced the pink-laced curtains. His demon physiology meant he needed less sleep than a normal person, which was fine to him. Waking early was watching Star and Marco’s forms rising and falling with each breath in the darkness, the moonlight washing silver over their closed eyes. 

He’d press a kiss, first to Star, then Marco, before settling back into the covers with both their bodies draped over his, listening to the  _ ba-thump  _ of heart beats like raindrops on the roof and stare up at the shadowed ceiling, their sleep-murmurs and occasional snoring music to his ears.

Marco awoke always between 7:30 and 8, opening his eyes to the sun already in full bloom and the chatter of birdsong. He’d giggle at the purple mess of Tom’s bedhair (“Like a porcupine with a flea problem.” “Have you seen yourself?”), and the two would kiss, chuckling quietly so as not to wake Star while wrinkling their noses at each other’s morning breath. 

Star would always be the last. She’d jerk awake with a “Huh-wha?”, drool in the corner of her lips, her crusted eyes half-open and head a tangleburr of hair. Which was, of course, the hottest thing Tom had ever seen, time and time again. And he’d be the first to kiss her, even if her breath could make an onion curl.

Him and Marco would always fight about this. About who’d get to give Star her good morning kiss, even though it was childish and pointless because of course Star loved both of them very much. They’d bicker like old ladies until Marco, fed up with how  _ infuriating  _ Tom could be, pressed their lips together and deepened the kiss, hands running up and down the small of the demon’s back. He noticed the way Tom would shiver then, a tremor running up and down his spine as though something  _ very _ delectable was within his reach, and then climb around and up Marco to pin him to the bed, a hungry lust in his eyes. 

Star liked to watch. She liked how they loved each other, the way they kissed and stroked and moaned until one of them became undone and buried his face in the other’s chest, riding out the pleasure. (“I dunno, that’s kinda creepy.”) (“Awww Marco, but I love seeing you two kiss and cuddle! It gives me all the warm fuzzy-wuzzies.”) 

Then Star would join in and it’d be a free-for-all pile of hugs and smooches in secret unmentionable places, and afterwards, the three of them stretched out in post-coital bliss, the Mewman sandwiched in between.

“Mm,” she said, giving each of them a quick peck. “I love you guys.”

“Which one of us is your favorite?” Tom asked, shooting a glare that Marco returned. 

“Yeah, Star, which one is the ugliest?”

“Hey!”

“Boys, there’s enough of me to go around,” she said.

Maybe they’d go out for ice cream or pizza.

Or maybe they’d stay in bed all day, the only way a boy, Mewman, and demon could. 

 


End file.
